Lavender Dreams
by Skyblaze
Summary: Post Season 4. Life is returning to normal for the citizens of Mainframe. But some wounds and scars remain, and some actions have long consequences, particularly for the resident Guardian.
1. Chapter 1

**Lavender Dreams**

Authors Notes: Post-S4 fic. Diverging after 'Null-Bot of the Bride'. Multiclassgeek gets the blame for this one.

_I was walking in the park  
Dreaming of a spark_

Fading orange light from the fading cyber sun filtered down through the distant clouds, warming the ground as the day-cycle slowly wound down.

Bob ran his hands through his hair wearily, frowning slightly when he ran out of hair sooner than expected, not quite used to being back in his 'old' format again, despite the relief his appearance seemed to engender in everyone else.

It had been a long cycle at the network port. Everyone who came through from the net had to be fully virus-scanned and file-checked, just to make sure. The same went for any outgoing traffic. It meant long cycles of work for the resident Guardian, even with Mouse, AndrAIa and Matrix's help, and it was a relief to finally be able to log off and grab some downtime.

He took the long route home, turning his zip board down past Floating Point Park. He had found that lately he needed a little time to unwind before he went home, and a relaxing trip home usually did the trick.

As much as he had initially been against Dot's plan to open Mainframe up to limited net travel, he had to admit it had made a difference to the place, it seemed somehow...brighter, more energetic, as though a spark that had been missing since before the Web Wars had somehow returned, and he could hardly argue with Dot's original assertion - Mainframe really did need to trade.

An image flashed up in his processor - of Dot's face during that discussion. Her mouth set firmly, her violet eyes flashing with determination. The memory sent a flash of obscure pain right through his core-com. Bob hardly noticed, almost accustomed to those feelings by now as he resolutely pulled his mind away from thoughts of the managed a warm smile as he caught sight of the two sprites sat in their usual spot Floating Point Park. Jerona and Denary were a pair of artistic types, and had been among the first visitors to arrive in Mainframe.

"Ladies," Bob greeted them politely, bringing his zip board down to land.

"Evening, Guardian," Jerona smiled, Denary's only reply was a shy wave as she hid behind her open paint screen.

"What's processing?" He asked as he took a seat on the grass next to where Jerona had her keyboard rig set up. She played a few twinkling notes before she replied,

"The usual," Jerona shrugged, "I've got another gig at Club Heat Sink, and Dena over there might have secured some space for her gallery."

"Really?" Bob exclaimed, glancing over at the pale young artist, "Well done, Dena!"

"Thank you," She said demurely, lowering her dark eyes. Bob took that opportunity to try and peek around the paint screen and see what she was creating, but Dena minimised the screen before he could see.

"Why won't you ever let me see what you're painting?" He said with his best pout.

"Not until it's finished, my dear Guardian," She replied coyly.

Bob looked up as Jerona's jaunty keyboard playing was interrupted by the distinctive sound of a vid window opening.

"Greetings young Guardian," Phong said from the window.

"Hi, Phong," Bob replied casually.

"My apologise for interrupting, but you are due to report to the Principle Office for a medical scan,"

Bob rolled his eyes and stood up, "I'll be there in a nano, Phong," The Guardian replied with a sigh. Phong nodded and the vid window snapped closed.

"No rest for the wicked, hmm?" Denary commented slyly.

"Something like that," He smiled as he unhooked his zip board from his belt, "Catch you two later, ok?"

"You better be at my concert, Guardian!" Jerona called as he sped away.

---

Cool twilight had settled across Mainframe, making all the lights and ad windows glow brightly in the soft purple shadows.

The only exception was the Principle Office, still brightly lit against the closing dark.

Inside the P.O, the sat staring blankly at a display before her, trying to make sense of the information on it. It wasn't all that complex, just a run down on the current level of incoming and outgoing traffic from the Port, but every time she tried to look at it, the information seemed to swirl and dance before her eyes. With a sigh, she pulled off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes.

"A wise sprite is one that listens to her body's needs." Phong's voice intoned from her left. Dot almost jumped out of her chair.

"Phong! I...uh...I didn't hear you come in."

"That much is in evidence, my child," Phong said, tilting his head, "Perhaps that is a sign that it is high time you went home and accessed some downtime."

Dot's processor raced, searching for a suitable excuse. She knew that it was Bob's turn for a medical scan at some point this millisecond, and she wanted to avoid running into him. She knew it was a cowardly thing to do, but she wanted any 'Conversations' (with a capital C) to be on her terms, when she had had a chance to prepare. So she had hidden in her office all day, only emerging for her own scheduled med scan early in the cycle.

"Bob has already been for his scan, you have no reason to hide any longer." Phong stated serenely before she could form an excuse. Dot stared at him for a moment, and then sighed ruefully, remembering that the wise old sprite tended to miss very little of what was going on - particularly among his friends.

"Thanks, Phong. I should go home and check on Enzo." She said, managing to dredge up a ghost of a smile, "But keep me informed for if..."

"Go, Child," Phong interrupted, "I will tell you if anything untoward happens, but now you should rest and be with your family." The old sprite gently shooed her out of the door.

Family. That caused a pang to go through her, a strange bittersweet feeling.

Family. Bob should be part of her family by now. Instead there was a barrier between them, built up of his insecurities and of her doubts...of her outright betrayal.

Dot was glad that the night hid her tears as she zipped home.

---

Phong watched the departing with a sigh of regret. He could see her pain, reflected clearly in her eyes. It was hard to watch her torturing herself, harder still to see that same pain reflected in another, just as tortured.

He loved them both as his own children, Bob and Dot had earned a special place in his core com, just as Enzo, Mouse, AndrAIa and Matrix had. They were as dear to him as sprites compiled from his own code, and it was truly difficult to watch their pain and confusion.

He could only stand by, offering his own brand of wisdom and advice when he was asked, but he could never directly interfere - this was one issue they had to resolve themselves, or it would never be resolved at all.

The old sprite rolled slowly towards the medical bay, intending to go over the medical scans that had been taken in the past cycle and make sure nothing was amiss.

The scans had been Dot's idea and Phong had readily agreed after she had pointed out that they could have caught the problems Bob had been having after merging with Glitch much sooner had a regular program of scans been running. It was sensible, practical, and contained heavy overtones of Dot's typical mothering instinct.

A few taps of spindly fingers against the keys called up the first set of scans - it happened to be Bob's. Phong took out the flask of hot cocoa and poured himself a cupful, leaning back to contemplate the screen. Everything seemed to be in order. Indeed, his young charges all seemed to be in disgustingly good health, all things considered.

Then something...odd...caught his eye.

He stared at that section of the screen for a moment, where the run-time increment was displayed. At first, he didn't understand what had struck him as unusual...and then it hit him.

_'Surely, I have mis-remembered.'_ He thought to himself,_ 'I am getting old, and my memory access is not what it once was.'_

Just to make sure, he called up one of Bob's previous scans, made when he was still merged with Glitch. His recall hadn't been faulty after all. He called up another scan, made before the Web Wars, and a sudden cold feeling almost froze his processor.

"Oh, dear." He whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_A penny for your thoughts, my dear..._

The soft click of the apartment door seemed to echo loudly in the empty space. Bob shuddered slightly at the sudden silence; he still wasn't used to the quiet. It reminded him too much of those endless seconds drifting aimlessly in the web, before he had been mercifully found and rescued by the Web Riders.

He quickly cancelled that line of thought. No point dwelling on it, it was in the past. The Guardian of Mainframe sighed and padded towards the bathroom. Maybe a shower would help clear his head. Damn, he never, ever thought he would find himself missing Mike the TV and his endless inane chatter, but at least that had filled up the silence.

Bob generally preferred to take quick, efficient showers, a habit he had picked up at the Academy, where taking long showers just meant you were at greater risk of either running out of hot water, or getting pranked, neither of which was particularly desirable.

Stepping out of the shower, he dried himself quickly, rebooted into some comfortable clothes and settled Glitch into his usual place on his forearm.

He blinked as he caught his own reflection in the mirror. The dazzling white spots in the bathroom cast almost no shadows, lighting everything in an unrelieved, harsh glare that bounced off everything the least bit reflective; Glitch, his hair, his Guardian icon...

And his web degradation scars.

Brown eyes snapped shut, and Bob silently counted to sixteen before opening them again, praying to the user that it was just an illusion, a trick of the light, that his tired state had caused his processor to play tricks on him.

Taking a breath, he opened his eyes again and peered fearfully at the mirror, but the shiny platinum scars remained.

They were no where near as prominent as they had been before Glitch had given him his code back from Megabyte, there was just a faint glitter of them on his forehead and down the side of his face, but they were undoubtedly there.

Trying to keep a grip on the panic that was slowly trying to swallow his processor, he checked the rest of his appearance. His hair remained short and pristine; his clothes still in good condition, and his keytool sat quietly in its customary place, in perfect repair and exactly as it should be. Well, that was something to be thankful for, anyway.

_"I'm sorry,"_ Glitch whistled suddenly. Bob glanced down at his partner.

"For what, Glitch?" Bob asked,

_"I thought the patch I gave you would fully restore and repair your code, but it looks like the registry problems couldn't be fixed after all," _

Bob swore the keytool sounded...mournful, upset. Keytool language wasn't exactly set up to convey much emotion, but since they had merged, Bob had become much more sensitive to the subtle nuances in tone in Glitch's bleeps and whistles.

"Glitch," Bob sighed and gently covered the keytool with his other hand, a gesture of trust and affection, "It isn't your fault. You did what you could; some damage just can't be repaired. It's ok,"

The electronic warble could almost have been a sigh,

_"I just wish I could do more,"_

Bob tore himself away from the mirror and wandered into the living room, sinking down into the sofa and staring out the window for a moment, thinking of Dot, of the damage to their relationship. The trust that had taken so long to build had shattered like glass...all thanks to Megabyte. His hands curled into fists and he took a sharp breath, realising that he needed a distraction, something to pour his troubled, frustrated thoughts and feelings into...

And before he could open his mouth, Glitch had materialised his guitar into his hands.

He blinked down as the guitar and his keytool.

"Glitch, how did you..?"

_"You enjoy playing music when you're troubled,"_ Glitch replied matter-of-factly, _"It seems to help your emotional state,"_

Bob shook his head, recognising a run-around when he saw one, and began to strum the guitar absently as he spoke,

"In other words, you've become more attuned to me, just like I've become more attuned to you."

There was a long pause, and Bob got the distinct impression they keytool was almost embarrassed,

_"Would it be wrong of me to say that I missed it?" _Glitch asked almost diffidently,

"No," Bob replied, almost too softly to hear, "Not if I miss it too."

They both lapsed into silence, the only sound was Bob's playing, electric chords almost shimmering in the air as he poured his troubled core-com out into the music, a heartbreaking wail of loss and grief, but still threaded through the bass notes, was the sound of hope.

"Maybe I should grow my hair again," He murmured absently, his eyes fixed on middle distance, looking at nothing. Glitch chirped in sympathy.

The Guardian was so lost in his thoughts and his music that he almost jumped out his skin when the chime of a vid window startled him.

"Hi Phong," Bob sighed after he took a breath to steady himself. The old sprite bowed slightly.

"My apologies for disturbing you so late in the cycle, my son, but I need to see you at the Principle Office right away," Phong said quietly.

Bob felt concern creeping over him, "Is everything ok?" _Is Dot ok?_ The thought went unsaid, but Bob thought the old sprite probably understood anyway.

"It concerns something I discovered n your medical scan, and I felt it should be discussed...personally,"

Concern rapidly morphed into outright worry.

"I'll be there right away, Phong." Bob replied, standing.

"Thank you, my son."

Bob's hand went to his forehead, to touch the faint imperfections of the web scars. It was a good thing Bob had trained himself never to ask questions like 'What else could go wrong?' or 'The cycle couldn't get any worse'.

Otherwise, he would have been in really serious trouble.

End Chapter Two


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_I.O.U for your love..._

It was well into the night-cycle by the time Dot arrived home.

She stepped through into the living room and smiled as she saw AndrAIa curled up on the couch, quietly thumbing through a readme file. The game sprite looked up and smiled back,

"Hi, Dot," She greeted softly, shutting down her readme and standing up.

"Hi AndrAIa," Dot returned tiredly, "Thanks so much for looking after Enzo for me,"

"No problem," AndrAIa grinned, "He's sweet, and he reminds me of some good times in my life,"

Dot couldn't help the slight tightening of her expression then. The reminder, however innocent, of AndrAIa and Matrix's lost childhoods cut deeply. It just proved how much she had failed them, had failed them all.

AndrAIa narrow her eyes slightly, but didn't comment,

"It's late," AndrAIa said, "I should get home, and you look like you need to grab some downtime,"

Dot nodded distractedly, "Yeah, I'm gonna check on Enzo and then offline for awhile...give Matrix my love, wont you?"

"Of course I will," AndrAIa said as she turned to the door. It was a graceless and obvious dismissal on Dot's part, but the Game Sprite was clearly giving her slack, on account of her near-exhausted state, but Dot knew that she would be called to account later, it was very hard to slip anything past AndrAIa.

After AndrAIa left, Dot padded upstairs and peered into Enzo's room.

Her little brother was curled onto his side, deeply offline. She silently slipped into the room and sat next to him on the bed. Reaching out with one hand, she gently stroked his hair, but her little brother didn't stir. Dot sighed deeply, knowing that Enzo still spent much of his time deeply confused. To his perspective, everything had changed in the space of a nanosecond, everything that had been familiar and comforting was changed or snatched away.

By far the worst thing to him, though, was to see the distance and awkwardness that existed between his hero and his sister. Poor Enzo simply couldn't understand why the two most important people in his life were now so uncomfortable around each other.

"I'm sorry, Enzo," She whispered, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on his head, "I love you," She said softly, rising to move and seek her own bed.

Enzo's eye half-opened, the expression in them a mixture of tiredness, sadness and worry, "I love you too, sis," He whispered back, knowing that Dot wouldn't have heard him.

Dot made her way through the silent corridor to her own room, quickly 'booted out of her clothes and set her icon down on the bedside table before turning over and snuggling deeply into the clean-smelling sheets. She curled up tightly, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping the sheets tightly around herself. When she had been a small sprite, she had often buried underneath her covers in the belief that her childhood blanket could protect her from unknown monsters that lay in the shadows of her room. Now she did the same, hoping that perhaps the soft sheets could protect her against her own dark, guilty thoughts in the same way. She felt so cold, chilled right down to the RAM in a way that no blanket could warm.

Allowing her imagination free reign, she closed her eyes, picturing Bob lying beside her, his silicon hair shining even in the dark room, his warm arms wrapped around her, banishing the icy chill that seemed to have settled right into her core-com. She could almost hear his gentle tenor voice in her ear, reassuring her, speaking words of love.

Then the voice in her ear abruptly changed from tenor to deep baritone, the tone went from loving to coldly mocking,

"There are none so easily tricked as those that want to be fooled," The icy voice purred, "Don't you agree Miss Matrix?" Cold, metallic blue hands came up to grasp her roughly by the waist and Dot cried out, squirming and kicking and trying to get away from the deep, mocking laughter that echoed through the room.

Until her foot struck the wall next to her bed, and she awoke with a pained start.

"A dream," She sighed when she had recovered her breath and most of her composure, "Another crashed dream," she growled, flopping back onto her pillows. It happened every time she tried to slip into what was once a favoured fantasy of herself and Bob lying in bed together, the image would twist and distort until she no longer saw or heard Bob, but Megabyte; reminding her of the hideous betrayal she had inflicted on the genuine article and the cruel game the virus had played with them all.

Fine. Dot was a logical sprite, believing that there was always a way out of any problem, no matter how complex - even emotional ones. So, if picturing Bob as he was now and had been when they first met was a problem, she would try something else.

Settling back into her pillows, she imagined Bob as he had been just after he returned from the web, when he had been what she had dubbed 'GlitchBob'.

She remembered how smooth and warm that chrome armour had been against her hands, how alive it had felt. Falling completely into the fantasy, she lifted her hands to touch his face, tracing the line of the shiny web scars as they trailed across his forehead and down his face. Dot lifted a hand to stroke his tarnished silver hair, letting her hands run through the long, unruly length of it, gazing up to stare into his huge, sad, brown eyes, wishing she could lift the burden of memory she could see in those troubled eyes even as he bent down to kiss her passionately.

The night passed with no further nightmares.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green..._

The Principle Office was almost deserted when Bob arrived there. Only the skeleton crew of the night shift remained. The two binomes on the main control area smiled tiredly at him when he stepped through the door.

"Phong's waiting for you in his office, Bob," The zero binome closest to him murmured respectfully.

"Thanks, Len," Bob returned politely, heading quickly towards Phong's private office. Usually he would have lingered and exchanged pleasantries with the night crew, but the cold knot of worry and dread coiled around his processor wouldn't let him relax that much until he discovered what it was Phong wanted to discuss with him.

"Phong?" He called, tapping lightly on the door, which slid smoothly open.

"Ah, Bob," The old sprite greeted him, "Please come in and sit down," Phong gestured to a comfortable chair and took up a position behind his desk, a cup of steaming cocoa in front of him, and his spindly fingers steepled in a misleadingly serene posture.

Bob obediently sat, worried eyes fixed on Phong's golden face.

"Phong," Bob began uneasily, "What's all this about? You said you found something in my medical scan?"

Phong sighed fingers dropping out of their meditative pose and picking up some print-out sheets.

"Yes, my son," Phong replied softly, "But first of all let me assure you that you appear to be in no danger,"

Bob let out an almost explosive breath, "In no danger from _what_, Phong?" He demanded.

"Allow me to show you," Phong replied, laying out the three print-outs on the desk in front of Bob, he pointed to the one on Bob's left, "This is a copy of the last scan you had before the web creature invaded," Bob looked it over carefully, but couldn't see anything particularly amiss. Phong continued, gesturing to another print-out,

"This was taken when you were still merged with Glitch," Again, Bob looked it over carefully, but all he could see wrong were the various power stability problems that had since been patched. Phong finally pointed to the last print out,

"And this is your most recent scan. Can you spot the anomaly in these readings?" Phong asked intently.

Bob sighed as again focussed his attention on the print-outs in front of him. It was difficult; he was tired and had little training in medicine beyond basic first aid, but as his eyes wandered over the print outs, something came to his attention.

"Phong," He croaked, "The run-time increment on these last two scans..." it was almost difficult to speak, and he felt as though he'd just gone through a power drain, "...they're exactly the same."

Phong closed his eyes for a moment, "Yes, my son," He replied very softly.

"But...how is that possible?" His processor stalled, his gaze was frozen on the print-out before him, on the single damning image he couldn't deny or dismiss, "What does it mean?"

"Bob," Phong spoke as gently as possible, trying not to disturb the Guardian's precarious equilibrium, "You are no longer aging,"

Bob's stare shifted from the print-outs up to Phong's wise, compassionate eyes, "But how?" he almost whispered.

"From the time the increment is frozen at, I would guess that it happened when you first merged with Glitch,"

That pronouncement drew a definite response - but not from Bob. A sudden, high-pitched sound like a despairing moan echoed through the small room, emanating from the keytool resting on Bob's forearm.

Bob looked down with surprise, "Glitch?"

The sound repeated, but this time ended with a pained warble. Phong didn't know keytool language, and to his untrained ears Glitch sounded much like an injured, broken-heated animal keening for its master.

"Of course you didn't know, Glitch," Bob was saying, "How could you? It had never been done before,"

The shift in Bob's posture then brought something to Phong's attention that he had previously not noticed,

"Bob," he said in some alarm, "Your scars..."

Bob's hand flew up automatically to touch his forehead in an almost defensive gesture,

"I know," Bob said, holding up his other hand to forestall Phong's next words, "Don't, please," He said somewhat sharply, "Not right now. I...need time to think,"

Phong bowed his head, defeated, "As you wish, my son,"

"I'll speak to you in the morning, I promise," Bob said in a more conciliatory fashion, "But I need some time to clear my head,"

"Very well," Phong sighed, "Good night, Guardian,"

"Good night, Phong."

And Bob was gone.

Phong picked up the now cold cup of cocoa and slowly trundled to pour it down the sink before retiring to his private rooms to meditate, feeling the weight of every single one of his great many minutes.

--

Bob hadn't felt able to return home, the thought of being inside four walls right now gave him an unaccustomed sense of claustrophobia, so he had landed his zip board in Floating Point Park. He settled himself down on a hill overlooking the city feeling the fresh breeze against his skin, trying to draw a little bit of that peace and tranquillity into himself.

He didn't need to say it, and barely had chance to think it before Glitch materialised his guitar into his hands.

"Thank you, partner," He whispered even as his fingers began to dance over the strings.

The sound of confusion, helplessness, anger and despair washed over the empty park as he let everything he'd been holding back bubble to the surface and pour into his music.

He wasn't aging. He had just stopped, his compilation frozen.

He still didn't know what he felt about that, his processor overloaded with too many thoughts and images. Did it mean he was now immortal? Would he carry on forever, or would he simply...stop...when his allotted run-time had expired? Would he have to sit and watch while all his friends compiled and aged and eventually deleted while he remained forever the same?

Oh User, would he have to watch that happen to _Dot_?

Something warm and wet splashed onto his hands. It was only then he realised he was crying, tears coursing soundlessly down his face to drip onto the ground, his hands, his guitar.

_"I'm sorry,"_ Glitch keened mournfully, _"I'm so sorry."_

To Be Continued...


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_When I am king, dilly dilly, you will be queen_

Across the park, a figure moved awkwardly away from the scene she had accidentally come upon. Returning home from a gig, Jerona had been drawn by the beautiful, heartbroken wail of Bob's guitar like a null to an energy spike, but when she had seen Bob's state, and read the devastation in his eyes, his posture and his music she had felt torn. She had wanted to go and comfort him, but knew he was unlikely to accept help from her - a relative stranger.

Jerona shook her head with a sigh. This could not continue, Bob and Dot were two of the most important sprites in Mainframe, what affected them affected everyone eventually.

She knew she could never interfere directly - it was not her place - but perhaps a word or two in the right ears would be enough. At least then she could feel she had done something to ease Bob's agony instead of just sitting on the sidelines.

Nodding decisively, she made up her mind. In the morning, she would go and talk to AndrAIa and Mouse.

As the musician moved away from the park back into the city, she missed the sight of another figure slipping silently through the shadows towards the Guardian

He was lying deeply within the grasp of sleep, its comforting dark warmth wrapped around like a cherished blanket. The heartbreak, exhaustion and pain that had driven him to this state seemed so very far away right now. Somewhere distantly, he could feel the damp grass on his face, and the chill that had settled into his muscles causing them to cramp and ache, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Moving to ease the discomfort would mean leaving the warm veil of oblivion to confront reality again and reality was too cruel to face right now.

"My my, what do we have here?" A sly female voice pierced the veil. Bob shifted, vaguely recognising the voice, but refusing to wake, "The system's faithful Guardian out by himself? All alone where anyone could justtake advantage," A high cackle of amusement rang across the park, Bob twitched at the familiarity in that sound something felt wrong, but he couldn't place what it was, he couldn't think, his processor felt like it was wrapped in foam.

"Don't worry," The voice cooed as he felt himself scooped up into slender but strong arms, "I'll look after you. Rest, now." There was the soft creak of leather and the soft whisper of wind through his hair, then his stomach seemed to fall away as he felt himself being lifted up, the wind rushing past, tugging at his hair, roaring through his ears. But there was no zipboard hum - nothing but warm arms, creaking leather and rushing wind. He struggled to rise up through the dark waters of consciousness, but it was too hard everything felt so far away

"That's right, Bob," The voice soothed as he felt blankets being drawn around him, "time to rest," He could sense a weight settle onto the bed beside him, and through the fog he thought he felt a hand touch his hair, "A pity, I rather liked the long hairah well," A set of slender fingers touched his face gently, "sleep, now."

Too tired to resist any longer, Bob drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

---

Matrix had no idea what time it was. Late, certainly but when traffic came in from the port at all micros, someone needed to be on duty there all cycle. Today just happened to be his turn to work the graveyard shift. Since it was well after system power down, walking was actually faster than taking a zipboard, since his board would be operating on minimum power. So a brisk walk through the system it was, his footsteps echoing through the dark, empty streets as he moved back towards the small apartment he shared with AndrAIa.

From somewhere up ahead, a shadow moved. Danger-honed instincts came alight and Gun almost jumped into his hand and his fingers wrapped around the comfortingly familiar grip.

"Who's there?" He challenged, his artificial eye glowing dimly.

"Only me," A light, female voice replied breezily. The owner of the voice stepped out of the shadows and sauntered casually over to him, her pale grey skin looking almost chalk white in the peculiar, shifting glow of the night cycle and her black dress almost seeming to blend into the deep shadows.

"Denary," Matrix acknowledged, his grip on Gun slackening as he lowered the weapon, his eye clicking back to normal, "you're out late,"

"Ah well," The artist smiled, her dark eyes amused and not at all intimidated, "inspiration can strike at any time, you know. Great artists rarely keep normal micros." She swept one arm grandly out to encompass the sleeping city, "Besides, Mainframe looks very pretty from the top of this building."

Matrix looked up at the building, with its slowly rotating Eight-ball on top, "I guess it would," He shrugged.

Denary tilted her head to regard him, "So what brings you out so late? On your rounds?"

Matrix snorted, "Hardly. Bob's the Guardian around here, not me. He gets to do the patrolling. I'm just heading home."

"Ah," Denary replied, red lips curving into that enigmatic smile again, "Very well, I shall leave you to it, then,"

"Wait, Dena," Matrix called, "I'm kinda glad I ran into you. I wanted to ask you something"

"Oh?" She asked, looking interested.

Matrix shifted, an almost embarrassed look crossing his face, "It's gonna be... Little Enzo's birthday again soon, and I I wanted to get him something special. Something I never had."

"A commission?" Denary asked, "It would depend what exactly you wanted - the larger and more detailed it is, the longer it will take - and you do appear to be on a deadline."

Matrix nodded, "I know," He said and proceeded to describe exactly what he wanted. Denary listened carefully, her lips pursed thoughtfully. When he had finished she paused for a second, considering.

"All right, I'll do it."

Matrix smiled shyly, an expression that displayed that he and little Enzo truly were the same person.

"Thanks, Dena."

She gave him another one of those enigmatic smiles as she turned and wandered off back into the city. Matrix watched her until she slipped around the corner, blinking slightly as she way she was silhouetted against the dim lights of powered down Mainframe suddenly reminded him of

He shook his head and resumed his journey home. It was strange how tiredness and the strange light of the night cycle could cause your processor to play tricks on you.


End file.
